


A Klaine Encounter

by beingalive



Series: A Klaine Encounter [1]
Category: Brief Encounter (1945), Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Crossover, England (Country), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingalive/pseuds/beingalive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt meets Blaine at a railway station in 1940s Britain. They are both married to women but they fall in love regardless. This is Kurt's story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I, Kurt Hummel, sit opposite my wife who is quietly doing her cross stitch as we listen to Rachmaninov on the record player – a picture of perfection, the two of us in an idyll village in the suburbs just outside London, middle class and happily married. Or so it would seem.  
I look across at my wife Edith and think how easily I could tell her everything, how it might slip out, how I would feel less burdened but I know I cannot. She trusts me completely and even if I were to tell her everything when we were old and grey and our children were fully grown, she would look back and know everything we had lived and experienced together had been a lie. She would be so hurt and I mustn’t forget we’re a happily married couple, this is my home and my children Bobby and Margaret are upstairs in bed. I’m supposed to be a happily married man or so I could pretend until a few weeks ago.  
It started on such an ordinary day and at such an ordinary place – the refreshments room at Milford train station of all places. I was reading my book that I had bought that day in London and drinking my cup of tea. The landlady of the café was being spoken to by one of the railway porters and she pretended she wasn’t interested, acted as though he was disturbing her time but there was a flicker in her expression whenever he spoke to her, which gave her away. She would smile slightly whenever he entered the little café and she was quite entertaining to listen to really. A man came in a little later, as I continued to read and I hardly noticed him until he turned round after he had ordered his tea. He was wearing a suit with a waterproof mac over the top and a hat pushed quite low. His hair was well styled, neatly gelled and his face was pleasant as he smiled my way and took his tea to another table. He was clearly attractive but I thought nothing more of him until later when he helped me.  
You see I had decided to go out to the platform to await my train but as the express train whizzed through the platform and bringing with it smoke and dust, a piece of grit must have flown into my eye. I stumbled into the café again and asked the landlady for a small cup of water to rinse my eye with. The pleasant looking man with the styled hair came over after a while and explained he was a doctor and asked if he could help. There was a strange spark as he held my chin with one hand and asked me to look down, then up and coming closer to my eye with his handkerchief, he removed the grit and smiled warmly at me, glad he could help.  
It was only as I thanked him for his help and smiled in return that I could fully look at that face that I won’t ever be able to forget now. He had the most beguiling eyes I had ever seen on a man – amber, brown and a mixture of greens and as they softened in front of me, I continued to smile. His eyes continued to sparkle as the bell indicated his train was arriving on the platform and explaining that was his train, he left.   
I stood on the opposite platform a few moments later, catching sight of him waiting for his train on the other side and I waved in thank you. As I went to bed that night I thought of the mysterious man but didn’t mention it to anyone and life carried on.   
I went into Milford the following Thursday, the man in the meantime just a fleeting image across my mind when I was alone or deep in thought. I enjoyed my Thursdays each week, my only day off from work and they have always represented my freedom, where I can see a film, get another book or pick up things my family might need. It was good to have a break from the idyll, if I’m honest.  
As I walked to Milford station after such a Thursday I bumped into the mystery man and he smiled warmly at seeing me. He tipped his hat and inquired jokily about my eye, to which I assured him it was fine. I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face as he smiled and went on his way. There was something about him, the way he moved, his smile that reached his eyes. Although he had barely grazed my thoughts before this second encounter, the following week I started to think about him more often. As I walked up the ramp to my platform, the train he would be getting on was just departing and I wondered if he was on it and whether he could see me.  
The following Thursday I was eating lunch in a café in town, it was very full and luckily two people had just left as I entered. Just as I gave my order I saw him come in and I thought he looked a little tired. I could see there was nowhere for him to sit so I smiled at him and said good morning.   
“Oh good morning,” he said, smiling in greeting, “Are you all alone?”  
“Yes, all alone.”  
“Would you mind if I join you?” he asked glancing at the full tables around him, “There doesn’t seem to be anywhere free.”  
“No of course not,” I said gesturing to the seat opposite me.  
“I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced properly, my name’s Blaine Anderson,” he said, stretching his hand across to mine, which he shook firmly.  
“Kurt Hummel. You’re a doctor aren’t you?” I asked conversationally, “I seem to remember you mentioning it in the refreshments room.”  
“Yes, not a very interesting one, just an ordinary GP. What do you do?” he asked.  
“I’m a bank manager in town,” I grimaced, “Again not very interesting.” He laughed and his face was alight with soft laughter lines. He looked breathtaking.  
The waitress arrived with my drink and asked for his order and upon finding out I had ordered the soup and sole, he ordered the same.   
All of a sudden the small orchestra in the corner started and it was a funny collection of women. A younger woman was playing the violin standing up near the front but the older woman sitting with her cello caught our eye and Blaine started to laugh.  
“Oh look at the woman at the cello, how funny,” he said still laughing and I looked to find her peering over little glasses at her music, looking so austere and serious I couldn’t help but laugh too. I felt light and carefree in his presence.  
“Do you like music?” he asked.  
“Yes, I play the piano and sing, I’m actually a countertenor,” I smiled, a blush creeping along my cheeks.  
“Really?” he said, looking amazed, “How fantastic! I sing and play the piano too but only when I can get the chance. I’m glad both of us can appreciate real music,” he said indicating the tiny orchestra. “I would love to hear you sing sometime,” he said, his voice lower in volume and his eyes looked so intensely at me, I fought the urge to blink in case I missed something.  
“Do you come here every Thursday?” I asked, swallowing.  
“Yes, to visit the hospital,” he said, settling back slightly in the chair, “The chief physician there graduated with me and he likes to spend the day as a GP at my practice while I spend the day in his hospital. Do you?”  
“Do I?” I asked.  
“Come here every Thursday?” he asked and I blushed again in embarrassment that I had been obtuse.  
“Yes, I work in town but I always have Thursday off as I take the bank books home and someone manages the bank for me. I change my reading book, have lunch and go to the pictures. Not very exciting but it’s a change of routine and I find I like the break. I must sound very dull.”  
“You could never be dull,” he said sincerely and smiled. I looked at him carefully for a fleeting moment, unsure whether he meant anything more with his comment, but then the moment passed.  
“Are you going to the pictures this afternoon?” he asked.  
“Yes.”  
“How extraordinary, so am I,” he smiled mischievously.  
“I thought you had to spend all day at the hospital?”  
“Well between you and me, I killed two patients this morning and I don’t think the nurse is very happy with me.” He winked and I felt my chest swoop. He looked so young and carefree, I couldn’t help but laugh.  
“Seriously I did get through most of my work this morning, would you mind awfully if I played truant with you this afternoon?”  
“No it would make a nice change to sit with someone.”  
We paid for our lunch soon after and split the bill meticulously. We chose to go to the Palladium for the film and it turned out the woman playing on the piano in the orchestra for the film was the same lady who played the cello at our café and we fell about laughing when we realised. I had never felt more alive than I did that afternoon. We joked and laughed, spoke of our families and our professions but really Blaine came alive when he spoke about music and how it affected him. Soon the film started and we sat watching it, our arms grazing as they rested on the armrest between us.   
As we came out of the cinema, I asked pleasantly if Blaine was married.  
“Yes my wife’s name is Madeline.”  
“What’s she like?”  
“Small, dark and rather delicate. Are you married?”  
“Yes, my wife is called Edith and she’s slim with fair hair and blue eyes. I think you’d probably describe her as delicate too.” Blaine looked carefully at me, his expression unreadable and I said nothing.  
We walked to the refreshments café in the station to order teas before our trains arrived. Blaine’s train always arrived a few minutes before mine and we settled quickly with our buns that the landlady had assured us were fresh, baked that day.  
“Is tea bad for you?” I asked as we sipped our drinks, “Worse than coffee I mean?”  
“If this is a professional appointment, I may have to charge,” Blaine said, smiling.  
“Why did you become a doctor?” I asked.  
“Oh that’s quite a deep question. I think because I’m a bit of an idealist.”  
“I think all doctors should have ideals. Otherwise their work would be unbearable.”  
“I’m sure it would be dull to talk of,” he said, brushing invisible crumbs off his arm.  
“Why shouldn’t you talk about it? It’s what interests you most isn’t it?” I said kindly.  
“Yes it is,” he said, leaning forward in his seat and resting his arms on the table in front of us. “I’m terribly ambitious you see, not for myself, rather for my passion.”  
“What is your passion?” I asked.  
“Preventative medicine. You see most young doctors have private dreams, but sometimes they get over professionalised and strangulated in official documents and the daily grind of the job. Am I boring you?” He asked suddenly.  
“No,” I assured him, looking carefully at his face.  
“What I mean is this – all good doctors must primarily be enthusiasts. Just like writers and painters and musicians they must have a sense of vocation, a deep rooted, unsentimental desire to do good.”  
“Yes I see that,” I whispered, mesmerised by the change in colour of his eyes and the way his face had lit up as he spoke.  
“Well obviously one way of preventing disease is worth fifty ways of curing it, that’s where my ideal comes in. Preventive medicine isn’t really about medicine at all really, it’s about conditions. Living conditions and hygiene and common sense.” He started to talk about his speciality, a condition which was a sort of fibrosis of the lung caused by inhalation of dust and smoke particles. He explained it was particular to areas of London and he told me the different types of disease and its causes. I couldn’t help but stare at him open mouthed as he explained. He looked so beautiful there opposite me in his enthusiasm, I was mesmerised by him. I think he took it as confusion but he carried on regardless. I don’t know how it happened really, but I realised I had never had such an amazing afternoon. I had chatted, laughed merrily and really been understood, taken out of myself and I felt silly to be thinking about a stranger this way but there was something more.  
“You suddenly look much younger,” I whispered in between us, “Almost like a little boy.”  
“Do I?” he said, stopping his conversation and looking at me carefully. “What makes you say that?”  
“I don’t know,” I said, still under his spell, “Yes I do.”  
“Tell me,” he continued to whisper as he got closer, his eyes never leaving mine.  
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly,” I said, shaking my head and feeling foolish, “Carry on.”  
He continued to speak, and I asked polite questions about the different kinds of dust and how he hoped to prevent these diseases but we continued to stare, our eyes never leaving each other’s. We spoke softer and I could really notice his beauty as he sat there, his eyes aglow with enthusiasm and his lips perfectly pink and he licked them unconsciously as my gaze travelled lower. I still can’t describe what went on between us, but we knew, both of us knew and we never wanted to leave.  
But suddenly the bell for his train tinkled in the shop and we became aware that it was his train and he had to leave.  
“That’s your train, you mustn’t miss it,” I said.  
“No, I mustn’t,” he said, looking down at his clasped hands, looking forlorn and lost.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing,” he said, looking up, shaking himself almost and smiling slightly, “Nothing at all.”  
“It’s been so very nice. I’ve enjoyed my afternoon enormously,” I said, smiling.  
“I’m so glad, so have I. I’m sorry for boring you with long medical words.” He laughed and he seemed to snap out of his reverie of earlier, more like his carefree self again.  
“Oh you didn’t really,” I said smiling warmly. He looked suddenly worried and leant closer.  
“Shall I see you again?” he asked. I didn’t know how to react, said something silly about his need to rush for his train and that mine wasn’t for a few minutes.   
“Shall I see you again?” he said pressing forward, still insistent.  
“Of course, maybe you can come one Sunday to my house for dinner. It’s a bit far but Edith would be delighted.”  
“Please, please,” he begged, “Next Thursday, same time, same place.”  
I knew what he was saying, knew why he implored me and I started to shake my head as he pleaded again. As he stood to get his train, panic flooded through me and as he let my hand go in farewell, I agreed, said I would meet him at the same time and he was off.  
I sat for a few moments then went to my own platform just as his train was leading out of the platform. He saw me and opened the window and waved as he departed, his face lit up in an impossibly wide grin. I grinned in return and suddenly thought about his wife. The wife he would be returning to – Madeline – small, dark and rather delicate. I wondered whether he would tell her about today and how he had escaped work for the afternoon and watched a film with a nice man he had met in town a few weeks before. I wondered if he would plan to invite us over – my wife and I – for dinner one Sunday, whether we would become regular dinner guests. But I knew. I knew he wouldn’t say anything.  
I couldn’t explain it. There was no harm in mentioning that you had made a new male friend, I could easily explain it to my wife but I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the moment we had shared, I knew there was something more and I couldn’t explain it.   
I had been vaguely aware that I found men attractive before, but Edith had come along, I was expected to marry and once my career was settled at the bank, children were obviously next. I followed the crowd but here was Blaine, in the same position and I knew. I knew we had both settled but here was a chance for more. Blaine already made me feel alive and his beauty – his eyes, those lips – I hoped he felt the same and I felt ridiculously foolish for letting myself fall so easily and for a man.  
I sat on my train, falling asleep and hoping and praying that Blaine felt even just a small amount of the overwhelming desire to meet again that I felt.


	2. Chapter 2

As I entered the house I was greeted by a frantic Edith who clasped my hands in gratitude that I had arrived.  
“Oh there you are, I’m so glad you’re home,” she said, her face showing her panic and her cheeks pale. “There has been an accident, Bobby was hit by a car and has a slight concussion.” I ran straight up the stairs to find the doctor packing away his equipment and a sleeping Bobby, his head wrapped in bandages and fast asleep.  
“Doctor,” I said, pleading, “How is he?”  
“He will be fine, sir,” he said, “Only a slight concussion. I have given him a sedative but he should be fine tomorrow morning. He was very lucky.” And the doctor continued to pack away as I sat on the bed and looked at my son, sleeping peacefully. All this had happened while I had been away with Blaine and the guilt ate away at my stomach and made me want to avoid going downstairs. How could I explain to Edith I had been out having lunch and watching films with a new friend, how could I explain that I was to meet him again next week, when all this had happened without me? Surely I had been a neglectful father, I hadn’t thought of Edith or the children the whole day.  
I walked slowly downstairs after a while, Edith greeting me at the bottom, her face showing worry and question.  
“How is he?” she asked.  
“He will be fine,” I said, leading her into the lounge, “The doctor has given a sedative and he should wake in the morning.”  
“I’m so glad you are home,” she said, her face almost crumpling with need and I knew I should go to her, comfort her but I could not. I simply attempted the Times crossword puzzle after a while and she returned to her knitting.  
I sat opposite her and thought I could make it better. Maybe I could mention Blaine; maybe I could explain my actions, gloss over their meaning and pretend that he was merely a new friend I had met.  
“I met a doctor a few weeks ago at the refreshments room at the station and we had lunch today and went to see a film,” I said quickly. She barely looked up at my speaking and continued her knitting.  
“Yes, I thought maybe we could invite him and his wife to Sunday lunch one weekend,” I continued.  
“Oh,” she said, finally stopping and thinking. “I might have to plan that more in advance, maybe you could wait a while, meet him again on your own. You know I find entertaining difficult,” she said, looking worried. For some reason the panic I had felt in my stomach at the mention of Blaine and his wife and the casual way my wife replied, made me laugh. I had worked myself up for nothing, worried over such a trifling thing. She didn’t care if I carried on meeting him; it never even crossed her mind that something untoward would occur. I suddenly thought – was it all in my imagination? Did Blaine feel only friendship for me?  
I worried about it while I added up my books for the bank, thought of his face when I went to sleep and dreamt of those amber eyes of liquid gold. I wondered what was wrong with me, that I lay next to my wife and felt nothing.

xXx

The following Thursday couldn’t come quickly enough but I waited at the same table where we had eaten lunch the week before and he never arrived. The cellist that had seemed so funny the week before just looked pathetic as I watched her and ate my simple lunch. I read my book, smoked my cigarette and felt a fool sitting there waiting for him. I clearly had imagined it all but I found myself walking past the hospital where I knew he would be working. I looked up, imagining him working there, sitting at his desk or seeing patients. I wondered if something had happened to stop him meeting me, maybe an emergency. I went to the pictures but the film was dull and boring, so I found myself arriving at the refreshments room early and drank a cup of tea before my own train arrived.  
As the announcement was made for the train he would be catching to go home, I walked along the platform and suddenly felt panicked that he would miss his train and that I wouldn’t see him again. But all of a sudden he came bounding up the ramp towards the platform, taking his hat off and upon seeing me, his face lit up.  
“I’m so sorry,” he said, clearly out of breath but clutching my hands. “I got held up at the hospital, there was an emergency and the house surgeon needed my help and…”  
“Hurry, we need to get to your platform, your train will leave,” I said and we started to run down the ramp and across to the other platform so he could board the train. He opened the train door as the final whistle was tinkled and he looked back at me, still clasping my hand and I realised he had held my hand all the way up the platform as we ran together. I let it go as he entered the train, realising what it would look like but his face was so alight with a smile, so thankful that he had seen me again, I couldn’t help but smile in return.  
“I’m so glad I got a chance to explain,” he said, as he boarded the train, leaving the window of the door open. “Next Thursday?” he said as the train started to speed away.  
“Next Thursday,” I shouted and waved as he went and my train was announced too and I ran to the other side of the platform.

xXx

Next Thursday appeared much quicker this time and there must have been a spring in my step as we met again for lunch and went to the cinema to watch a film. We laughed and inadvertently clasped hands or brushed arms in between the seats when there was a part that enthralled or excited. It appeared accidental but I would occasionally glance over at him, his face again wide with a smile and his eyes aglow and I knew it wasn’t.  
As we left the cinema, just slightly early to avoid the rush at the exit, it was such a lovely afternoon that Blaine suggested we visit the Botanical Gardens and we walked along, chatting and laughing. The water was so peaceful and the sun shining that nothing seemed to be able to dampen our mood, though I did notice that one little boy having a picnic on the grass, looked a lot like Bobby. I didn’t feel guilty, I was just there, enjoying the time with Blaine and we seemed set apart from everything else. Nothing could touch us.  
Blaine suddenly decided that instead of just watching the water, we should actually go on it, so we hired a boat and we started rowing out. Blaine clearly didn’t know how to row but we wandered gently for quite a while, enjoying the peace of this idyllic afternoon. There was a comfortable silence for a while as I watched the rippling water and spotted the geese. I would occasionally look at Blaine who was watching me carefully, something on his tongue but not daring to speak.  
“Do you sometimes wish to be another creature?” I asked suddenly, “Another animal, I mean.”  
Blaine looked around at the animals of the water surrounding us and then at me.  
“I think birds are beautiful,” he said simply, “It would be marvellous to fly away wouldn’t it?”  
“Yes it would,” I whispered.  
“What made you ask that question?” he asked sadly.  
“I thought first of all about birds, that’s why I asked. I think my life has become such a drag, I wish most days that I could fly.”  
He said nothing as I looked resolutely at the oars I was pushing through the water surrounding us.  
“Why do you want to fly away?” he asked timidly, his sudden shyness seemed opposed to his usual positive attitude.  
“Then maybe something would happen,” I said, continuing to avoid Blaine’s gaze which I could feel burning on my face. “Maybe I would feel alive and free.”  
“That would be nice, to feel and to be alive; to be really alive. Birds can fly but they can’t love,” he said simply and I nodded in agreement, understanding and not wanting to ruin the peaceful stillness of the water below us. I looked up after a while and suddenly noticed the bridge we were approaching, much more rapidly than I had at first assumed.  
“Oh no!” I exclaimed, “Watch out!”  
Blaine looked behind and noticed the hanging chains underneath the low bridge and I tried to steer us away but Blaine decided to stand up and push our boat away from the bridge by walking further up the boat. He seemed to carry on pushing and all of a sudden he was in the water and as he came up, covered in seaweeds and watery plants, I couldn’t help but laugh. He looked so miserable and silly, stuck in the water with his bottom lip out in a pout that my laughter continued and he joined in, blowing bits of plants and water out of his mouth and trying to brush off seaweed, as if he could make any difference. We eventually rowed to safety and returned the boat. The kind man in charge of the boat made us tea in his boathouse and let Blaine borrow trousers while his socks, shoes and clothes dried by the fire.  
“Tea?” I said, as Blaine sat by his drying clothes, looking pensive and thoughtful. He nodded and took his cup. He stared at the top of the rippling tea as if it would contain all the answers. I sat opposite him with my own tea.  
“You know what’s happened, don’t you?” he suddenly whispered, stirring his tea, watching.  
“Yes,” I replied, “Yes, I do.”  
“I’ve fallen in love with you.”  
I couldn’t reply, didn’t know what to say. I think my breath stopped for just a moment and I was falling. I could see him shuffle in his seat to face me better, as my gaze remained fixed on my tea and he seemed to breathe deeply to prepare himself, to present himself fully.  
“Please tell me what I believe to be true,” he said, forcing me to look at his golden eyes as he leant in closer. “Please tell me you feel the same way.”  
“It sounds so silly,” I whispered.  
“Why?”  
“I know you so little.”  
“Please,” he whispered, pleading so beautifully, his eyes awash with unshed tears.  
“Yes,” I whispered, “I love you too.”  
“Your eyes,” he said, “They shine, I can’t help but see myself in them and I think you’re beautiful.” He looked relieved that he had said so much, knew it would be forbidden everywhere for him to announce such a statement but at that moment he looked like he could fly.  
“We must be sensible,” I said, despite feeling like I could soar, “We can’t say these things, we’re both married and…”  
“No it doesn’t matter,” he said, clutching my hands in his as they rested between us, cups of tea discarded. “It doesn’t matter at the moment. We have time, we still have some time.”  
I looked carefully at him, not wanting to be the voice of reason but already knowing it couldn’t continue. I knew I loved him, would always love him, would see his face before my eyes every day before I died but we would have to part and return to our middle class idyllic lives with our wives and children. But we still had time. 

xXx

We went back to the train station once Blaine’s clothes were dry and as we were going under the platform so I could see Blaine get on his train and wave him off, we linked arms in the dark empty tunnel. No one was there and Blaine suddenly turned to face me, the dim light only revealing the glow of his eyes, almost like a cat.  
“I love you,” he said as he leaned in closer and my eyes widened as he kissed me, so secretive, so quick I could barely let out the breath I had been holding. We could hear a rustle of newspaper on the ground coming from the ramp behind us and we parted again, looking like two men walking solemnly together. No one knowing, no one understanding but there was a difference now.  
As his train approached, Blaine turned to face me on the platform, a sad expression on his face at the prospect of waiting a week to meet again. He clasped my hand and squeezed it before boarding the train and the train started to move away.  
“I’m never saying goodbye to you,” I said, as the train sped off and he smiled in understanding and waved until I could see him no more.


	3. Chapter 3

I tossed and turned that night, sure I would disturb poor Edith but she slept soundly while I thought on about what I was doing and who I could hurt. I thought everyday about not going to see Blaine on that Thursday but I knew that I would, I couldn’t help it. I already felt that pull, that hold he had on me and it was impossible to break.  
I met Blaine that Thursday outside the hospital at 12.30 as agreed and he came bounding out to meet me, a grin on his face and his eyes twinkling. I had never seen him so happy. I suddenly felt young again, the years spent at the bank drifting away.  
“I thought you might not come,” he said as he clasped my hands in his, almost appearing to shake them as polite men would but holding them a little too earnestly for that. I smiled.  
“I nearly didn’t,” I said honestly as we started walking to get lunch.  
We went to a lovely hotel for dinner and it must have looked like a business lunch, both of us in our suits and ties. Looking around we were surrounded by male and female couples or groups of women but I decided not to care as we ate our lunch and chatted happily. Blaine decided to be decadent and order champagne and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as I did that day. He told me stories of his university days and who he had studied with, even about a choir he belonged to called the Warblers and his face lit up, his eyes crinkled and alive. He had never looked more beautiful.  
We left the hotel restaurant an hour or so later and laughed and joked, barely noticing anyone around us but suddenly I saw two ladies that I knew were close friends with Edith. They stopped as they saw me, their faces alight with recognition. I suddenly realised they had seen the whole exchange between Blaine and I, seen us share champagne and I barely thought up excuses quick enough. I decided to say that Blaine was an old friend of the family and that they surely knew both him and his wife, but of course I knew they would not.  
“I do so envy you your champagne,” Laura whispered, leaning a little too close to me as she passed and smiled.   
Blaine decided to try to distract me from the irritating women, who liked to gossip and showed me the surprise he had managed that was waiting outside the hotel. It was a car that he had borrowed from Stephen, a doctor at the hospital, and we were to drive out to the country. I kept thinking of those women, laughing and talking, laughing and talking but Blaine tried to distract me again with idle chit chat in the car. I looked over at him after a while and I noticed his perfect profile, his straight nose, pursed lips and not for the first time I realised he was beautiful. I couldn’t help but think it was utterly ridiculous for it to be a crime for me to admire this man.   
We stopped off at a little village after a while and wandered over a bridge and admired the English countryside. The sun was trying to shine but not really succeeding though the wind was pleasant and the water lapped along the side nicely. We leant over, admiring the stillness and the fact that we were finally alone. I shivered and Blaine put his arm around me.  
“Cold?” he asked.  
“Not really,” I said shrugging.  
“Happy?” he asked, looking at me carefully, already fearing the answer.  
“Not really,” I said.  
“I know what you’re going to say,” Blaine said, still holding onto my shoulders but looking out to the water, “That the furtiveness, the anxiety isn’t worth it, that it outweighs any happiness we might have alone here.”  
“No, don’t say that,” I pleaded, “Don’t say that.”  
“Is that what you think?”  
“I think sometimes it is like that but other times when I look at your eyes or your smiling face or when you get so enthusiastic about medicine or music – I think then that such beauty, such admiration can’t be a crime, can’t be wrong and I just…” I wasn’t allowed to finish. Blaine tugged me close and kissed me fiercely. My lips finally moved against his and I felt myself getting bolder amidst my declaration and I licked the corner of his mouth just slightly and Blaine opened his mouth wider, allowing our tongues to dance together and I had never known such pleasure. His hands were clutching me closer, feeling along my back and I felt myself pulled nearer. We kissed like that for several moments but eventually parted to breathe again. He looked so wrecked there on the bridge, his lips red from kissing and his eyes aglow with life. He took my breath away.  
“You’re beautiful Kurt,” he whispered, “So beautiful.”

xXx

We spent an age at the bridge, kissing and talking until we noticed the hours going by and decided to drive back to the station, dropping the car off at Stephen’s garage. Blaine said that he had to drop the keys at Stephen’s flat in town and he suggested that I come with him. I wanted to, I so desperately wanted to that there was a pause and I felt that pull again, invisible but so constricting. I thought back to those gossiping women at the hotel restaurant and I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t be discussed like that. I told Blaine I couldn’t go.   
He looked disappointed but we started the walk back to the station, our arms touching, our bodies as close as would be allowed in public. No one walked past, no one saw us and as we approached the tunnel underneath the station bridge Blaine suddenly turned to me, desperate and his eyes fiercely bright in the darkness, almost like a cat.  
“I’m going back,” he said, clinging to my arms, “I’m going back to Stephen’s flat, I’m going to miss my train.” He looked at me for what seemed like hours, imploring me with his eyes and as my gaze lowered to his lips, I felt my resolve crumple and we kissed again as a train stormed through the station above us. The loud whistle and the steam covered any gasps of pleasure, any murmurings between us but I knew I couldn’t do what he wanted. As our lips parted I felt my face crumple.  
“I can’t Blaine, I’m sorry,” I said and I walked briskly away, knowing that Blaine wouldn’t follow me and I arrived at the station refreshment room soon after.  
I sat there smoking and drinking my tea before my train arrived, my hands jittery, the cigarette ash sprinkling where it shouldn’t and thoughts whirring through my head. I could hear Blaine’s voice begging me to go with him, I could hear my train being announced, I could hear my voice reasoning with Blaine, explaining why I couldn’t. I felt the pull towards Blaine but my rational mind had taken over and I ran to catch my train and I closed the door. I heard the announcements and I knew the pull was greater and I panicked at the thought of Blaine being there on his own and the waste of this opportunity. I left the train, startling the passengers in the carriage as I hastily explained I had left something behind.   
I ran along the platform and under the tunnel, knowing Blaine would long ago have arrived at Stephen’s flat. I didn’t have time to think of my actions as I walked briskly to the flat, I only followed my heart, knowing I was done for.  
I remembered the number from an earlier conversation with Blaine and I knocked. Blaine opened the door, his face almost comic in its rapid change. Looking sad as he opened the door, clearly expecting Stephen, seeing me his face lit up and he allowed me to enter quickly.  
We exchanged small talk about the slight drizzle outside and how I had forgotten my umbrella and that my coat was wet. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself now that I was here. I so desperately wanted him, wanted a touch, a kiss, anything to show I wasn’t dreaming but we sat down and looked closely at each other.  
“I got onto the train and straight out again, wasn’t that silly?” I said, laughing at myself.  
“We’re both very very silly,” he said, leaning in closer until our lips met again, his warm lips against mine so cold. I could feel him move against me, his tongue suddenly mingling with mine in a slow sensual way. I gasped in pleasure as he untucked my shirt from my trousers and his warm hand stroked along my back. I had never known such pleasure. I found myself harden embarrassingly and brought my fingers to tug gently at the curls at the nape of his neck. He moaned rather loudly and pressed himself closer to me moving me back on the sofa so I lay on my back. I felt myself go undone when I could finally feel his erection hard against my leg. I had never wanted someone so much.  
A key could be suddenly heard in the lock in the front door and we scrambled apart, immediately getting my things together.   
“Quick I must go,” I whispered and Blaine ushered me to the kitchen where there was a tradesman staircase. I bounded down the steps and Blaine closed the door behind me.   
I had never felt more sordid, more pathetic as I tucked my shirt in properly and walked in the direction of the station, knowing I had missed my usual train and would have to explain myself to Edith. It was still raining but somehow I felt I deserved it and the rain helped to clear my head. I walked for a while aimlessly and then found a drug store where I could ring home, making some excuse to Edith about some poor lady needing my help. I said I wasn’t sure when I would return but I would be sure to get the last train. It’s awfully easy to lie when you are trusted so implicitly; so very easy and so very degrading.  
I eventually walked to the war memorial and along the streets, empty at this time of night and it was only as I returned to the station, walking up the ramp and looking at the big clock above the platform, that I noticed I had been walking for three hours. I was fifteen minutes early for the last train so I entered the refreshments room and bought a drink.  
I was sitting there as Blaine entered, looking harried and desperate and so relieved when his eyes alighted on mine.  
“Oh thank god, I’ve been looking for you,” he said, hurrying over to me. The waitress had gone out the back so we were alone.  
“I think it’s best you leave,” I said, not able to look at Blaine in the eye, knowing what I would find there.  
“You can’t mean that,” he said sadly, so quietly.  
“This can’t continue, you know it can’t continue,” I said, still looking at my hands in front of me.  
“You could really say goodbye, just like that?” he said.  
“Yes, if you would help me,” I said, knowing I sounded so pathetic.   
There was a pause. I didn’t want to, I could already feel that tug to get closer, to touch and feel Blaine next to me. I knew I couldn’t be away from him, knew I couldn’t really say goodbye, I had promised I would never say it.   
“I love you Kurt,” he said sadly, and I daren’t look up, “I will always love you.” He seemed to move away slightly and I felt my eyes drift towards his body. “I can’t look at you now because I know something,” he continued, “I know this is the beginning of the end. Not the end of my loving you but the end of our being together. But not quite yet, not quite yet,” he begged and I finally looked at him, tears making his eyes shine in front of me.  
“Not quite yet,” I heard my voice echo and he looked relieved.   
“I know you think it’s sordid, this affair,” he said, “I know you think we’re cheating and you can’t live with the guilt any longer. I feel the same but every time I look at you, or feel you near, I can’t stop and…” His voice sounded choked and his eyes widened. “I’m going away soon,” he said, “But not yet.” And I suddenly felt panicked at the thought that he would leave and I echoed the phrase, “Not yet,” hoping to keep him near, tugging him closer with my hands. The bell went for the last train and we were hurried out of the refreshments room by Beryl who wanted to lock up.  
We wandered slowly to the platform, Blaine deep in thought before he leant closer to speak to me.  
“Promise me you’ll meet me next Thursday, I need to explain, I need to explain where I’m going.”  
“Where can you go?” I asked, “You can’t leave your practice.”  
“I’ve had a job offered me, I wasn’t going to take it but I know now it’s the only way out.”  
“Where?”  
“A long way away, Johannesburg.” I gasped.  
“My brother’s out there and they’re opening a new hospital and they want me in it. It’s a fine opportunity really; I’ll take Madeline and the boys. It’s been talked of for quite a while but I never really considered it before. I haven’t told anyone, not even Madeline. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you, but I see now it’s got to happen anyway. I don’t want you to start to hate me.”  
“I could never hate you,” I said vehemently, “I hate that we’ve hurt so many people, I hate that I can’t be with you properly.” I sat down on the edge of the ramp, I suddenly felt so tired of it all.  
“When do you go?” I asked.  
“Almost immediately, two weeks.”  
“So close,” I whispered, my throat constricted at the thought of him leaving, I couldn’t do it.  
“Do you want me to stay?” he said, begging, “I can turn down the offer, I can stay.”  
“No,” I said sadly, “Take the offer.”  
“I’ll do whatever you say.”  
“That’s unkind of you my darling,” I said, feeling tears trickle down my cheeks knowing that this loving man could never really be mine.  
As the announcer declared the train was arriving Blaine walked me to the carriage and I got on the train, leaning out the window to carry on the conversation before the train took me away from Blaine.  
“Forgive me?” Blaine asked.  
“Forgive you for what?” I asked.  
“For everything. For meeting you in the first place, for taking that piece of grit out of your eye, for loving you, for bringing you so much misery.”  
“I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me,” I said as the train sped away and he looked at me so beautifully from the platform, a single tear falling down his cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

Today was our last day together. Even thinking that, remembering our last moments together, it seems an age ago and yet I can still remember his touch, still feel his lips ghosting along mine.   
We met outside the hospital as agreed and as Blaine had the car again we drove through the same villages as before and visited the same stream, standing on the stone bridge for ages. We ate lunch in a village pub not too far away and it was constantly on my mind – this was our last day, the last time we would do this and my stomach twisted at the thought I wouldn’t see his beautiful face again or see his eyes aglow with tears or laughter.   
“What would you do if you had your time again?” Blaine asked breaking the silence as we ate in the local pub.  
“I don’t know really,” I said, “I sometimes think that I would never have married Edith but then I wouldn’t have Bobby and Margaret and they are adorable. Maybe I wouldn’t be the person I am now if I hadn’t married Edith. Maybe this was supposed to happen this way.”  
“Do you believe in fate?”  
“Not really, not in the sense that your life is determined for you, but I do believe things happen for a reason perhaps not at the time you wish. Do you?”  
“Yes, I know I was meant to find you,” Blaine whispered, “I’ve never felt more alive Kurt, than I am with you. I want you to always know that.” I shook my head, the thought of a goodbye already too much, a lump forming in my throat.  
“Don’t say it,” I muttered, looking at my food.   
“I wish I had met you before, before I had married, before everything got complicated and so middle aged,” Blaine said.   
“So do I.”   
“Is it real for you?” Blaine whispered, “Is it real like it is for me?”  
“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes so real.”  
We chatted on and off about other things, not about our other lives anymore, only things that mattered, what we believed in, what made us laugh, things that were important. I wanted Blaine to know it all, and even in this short time together I felt I knew Blaine better than anyone else.  
Hours seemed to whizz by as if we weren’t allowed to appreciate the time together anymore. We were always on borrowed time but I watched the golden leaves in the autumn air by the stream, as we returned to the car, and felt that even they were a cruel reminder that life is temporary, that love never lasts and there is only time – a constant cycle of repetition. We stood on the bridge again, hoping to pause, hoping to stay here forever and I wished then that I would always remember this place and Blaine, that nothing would fade, even in my old age.   
Blaine rested his head on my shoulder as we watched the gentle waves beneath us and I could feel tears forming in my eyes at the domesticity of it all, that we were simply two men in love. I loved this gentle man that had changed my life so much in the space of a few weeks, shaken what I believed about love and life and was now to leave it. I stroked his cheek, as his head still rested on my shoulder and he looked up, his eyes shining. He closed them as I continued to stroke his cheek and I leaned in to kiss him so gently that I could feel the murmur on his lips, the tremble of his fingers as he wound his hand around my waist. We kissed for what seemed an eternity but it was never quite enough.   
We soon found ourselves walking back to the station, under the tunnel and our bodies were constantly together as if we needed touch to reassure us. We sat in the refreshment room at the station, already aware of time slipping away. We sat there, Blaine idly stirring his sugar in his tea and I looking down at the table. Nothing could be said anymore, nothing was to be done.  
“Are you ok?” Blaine said sadly, finally looking at me.  
“Yes, I’m ok,” I said, my face obviously showing otherwise.  
“I wish I could think of something to say.”  
“It doesn’t matter, not saying anything I mean.”  
“I’ll miss my train and see you off on your train,” Blaine said.  
“No, please don’t,” I said, tears already forming. I couldn’t bear the thought of a goodbye; I needed to have some control as I could feel all semblance of normality slipping away. “I’ll come over to your platform, I’d rather.” Blaine nodded sadly.  
“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?” I asked.  
“I don’t know,” he said, looking down at the table, “Not for years anyway.”  
“Children all grown up,” I said, looking into the distance, imagining that future and hoping and wishing. “I wonder if they’ll ever meet and know each other.”  
“Couldn’t I write to you? Just once in a while?” Blaine asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.  
“No, please Blaine we promised,” I said, not able to look at him, feeling like I could give him anything he wanted, knowing I shouldn’t.  
“Kurt,” he said, imploring me with his voice to look into his golden eyes, “I do love you so very much. I love you with all my heart and soul.”  
“I want to die,” I whispered, “If only I could die.”  
“If you die, you’d forget me and I want to be remembered.”  
“Yes, so do I.”  
“We’ve still got a few minutes,” Blaine said looking at his watch but then I heard a voice and my eyes closed against the tide of new emotions sweeping through me. A man I knew from the bank called Fred came bounding over to us, talkative and loud, banging himself down at our table and I cursed silently that fate was obviously so against us.   
“Fancy seeing you here Kurt, on your day off,” he said and as he deposited his briefcase on a chair he bought himself a cup of tea at the counter.   
Blaine looked at me, eyes wide and helpless, so desperate to get rid of this man that was ruining our last few precious moments together but I knew we could not and I saw a flicker of anger cross Blaine’s face as Fred from the bank returned.   
“The bank did very well today,” he was saying as he started drinking his tea opposite us. “We took in some money, had the usual older customers checking their savings, a few accounts opened…” He carried on, completely oblivious to what he had disturbed, completely unaware that I wasn’t in the least interested. Blaine and I barely spoke but Fred filled the silence easily and then the bell tinkled for Blaine’s train and I froze.  
“There’s your train,” I whispered to Blaine.  
“Yes I know,” he said sadly.  
“Oh aren’t you coming with us?” Fred asked jovially.  
“No I go in the opposite direction, my practice is in Churley.”  
“Oh I see,” Fred said.  
“Dr Anderson is going out to Africa next week,” I said.   
“Oh how thrilling,” he said.  
The announcement for Blaine’s train came and he looked at me, panicked at the thought of leaving without a proper goodbye, clearly deciding whether to get another train, to not leave at all. I looked at him sadly, knowing that this was how it was to end. He would have to leave. He got up and put his coat on.  
“I must go,” he said finally and I nodded, not able to say anything.  
He said goodbye to Fred, shook his hand and I thought he might not say anything to me, but I suddenly felt his hand on my shoulder and he squeezed gently and I felt my eyes close against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. And then he walked away. Away out of my life forever.  
“He’s got to get right over the other side of the platform,” Fred was saying and he laughed. Fred carried on talking but I wasn’t listening. I was listening to the sound of his train on the platform, then I heard the whistle, then it departed. I said to myself he didn’t go, at the last minute his courage failed him, he couldn’t have gone. Any minute now he’ll come back into the refreshment room, pretending he’s forgotten something. I prayed for him to do that, just so I could see him again for an instant but the minutes went by and the tinkle of the bell indicated the express train was about to go through the station. Fred got up to get some chocolate.   
As I heard the screech of the express as it approached the station, I suddenly felt overwhelmed, thoughts running through my head and I ran out to the platform, knowing I could easily throw myself there, end all this misery now. And I nearly did it but I stopped just short of the platform and felt the blast of steam wash over my face and mess my hair. I closed my eyes against it all.  
I’d like to think it was the thought of Edith and the children that prevented me from doing it but it wasn’t. I had no thoughts at all; only an overwhelming desire never to feel anything ever again. Not to be unhappy anymore.   
I turned and went back into the refreshment room and carried on. I got on the train when it was time, followed diligently by Fred who continued to prattle on about the bank, asking inane questions about Blaine and his plans in Africa. I felt myself close my eyes against the rush of feelings and wanting it to end. I wished Fred would die, wished he would stop talking and eventually I asked him if he wouldn’t mind if I tried to sleep. He apologised and I closed my eyes, never finding sleep but only wanting a moment to myself.  
I wanted it all to end. I know that it can’t last, this feeling of utter despair. This misery can’t last. I must remember that and try to control myself. Nothing lasts really, neither happiness nor despair. Not even life lasts very long. There’ll come a time in the future where I won’t mind about all of this anymore and I can look back quite peacefully and cheerfully at how silly I was but no, no I don’t want that time to come ever. I want to remember every minute, always, always until the end of my days.   
I sit opposite Edith in my pleasant English house in this idyllic village and suddenly realise she is looking at me kindly, her cross stitch abandoned on her lap. She comes over to me and sits by my side, stroking my hand.  
“You looked so far away Kurt,” she was saying and I felt slowly like I was coming back and I could see the worry in her eyes.   
“Whatever your dream was, it wasn’t very pleasant was it?” she asked.  
I imperceptibly move my head, neither a shake nor a nod, not sure how to describe my time with Blaine, so short, so sweet.   
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked. I shook my head no. Tears filled my eyes at her kindness and she would never know how much her simple statement meant and how lost and alone I felt.   
“You’ve been a long way away,” she said, “Thank you for coming back to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the sequel soon: 'A Second Chance'.


End file.
